The View from Here

The Blue Birds of Happiness

We have been blessed with bluebirds for the past few days.

 

Taking Stock

Looking Back While Moving Forward

Wondering What the Future Holds

It occurred to me this morning that September is almost gone. It’s been an emotional month for me personally…a month of memories, decisions, changes, and challenges. I’m reluctant to post some of them for fear of sounding self-centered and ungrateful. I know so many people who are going through much more serious situations. They’re living with the loss of loved ones. They’re dealing with much more serious health problems. They’re unemployed and/or homeless. They have children to protect and feed and educate. Who am I to complain?

And yet…

If I don’t acknowledge that MY struggles matter, how can I claim to understand and respect yours? So I feel compelled to admit that limiting my involvement in community activities, altering my life to accommodate my changing physical condition, and dealing with my husband’s recent diagnosis of Parkinson’s has not been easy. I’ve had to think of ways to help others in more of a “behind the scene” capacity. I’ve had to get creative with my daily tasks in order to do them while requiring the use of a cane most of the time. I’ve had to drastically limit all gardening efforts. Gary and I are researching everything we need to know to make sure he remains as healthy as possible in the future.  We’re both trying to eat healthier food and lose weight.

Of course, we’re trying to stay as socially active as possible, while at the same time staying “distant” enough for safety. The precautions required by COVID affect every decision about our actions outside our home. Can we safely go to the library? Should be shop for something not truly necessary? Is it wise to attend church? Should Gary continue to volunteer at the museum? Should we eat in a restaurant?

Like most older citizens we’re also emotionally drained by the daily chaos and controversy displayed on our screens. Even if we don’t watch television, the news creeps in on our computers and phones. Political problems dominate our country. People are exploited. Needs are ignored. Disrespect is flaunted.  Violence is accepted, even encouraged. Those of us who have lived through some of this in the past know that there isn’t a “happy ending” in the future. The best we can hope for, pray for, is a slightly better world.

My greatest concern at the moment is for education. We’ll never see the return of the educational system we had before the virus. That’s not a “doom and gloom” pronouncement. Numerous things – agriculture, pandemics, war -- have drastically changed education in the past. Any student of history knows that most of our ancestors went to school 6-9 months of the year, divided into sessions that accommodated harvests, and graduated from the eighth grade…ready for a job. Only those with means and motivation went on to higher levels. The best way to educate our children has been hotly debated in every state for the past decade. The virus has simply forced us all to focus on some of the more critical issues and come up with solutions quickly. My hope is that the majority of the changes are not made just for convenience. I pray that the future of education will be better…much better.

October should concern all of us. It’s the beginning of the HOLIDAYS, and the traditional gatherings of friends, families, neighbors, and strangers. How will we preserve some of our beloved traditions without endangering others?

October is also the beginning of flu season. How will we deal with the addition of another threat to our health? Will our COVID precautions suffice?

And finally, October marks the beginning of the “depression months”. Many people have already limited their social interactions and are suffering emotional challenges due to the restrictions imposed by the virus. Colder weather and fewer hours of sunlight will only add to those problems. We need to prepare to maintain our own mental health and be sure to check on friends and family members.

So…a few more days remain in September. I’ll continue to reflect and plan. I’ll remember Mom on the 30^th. I’ll begin to take stock of what we need for winter.

There is no way to see what the future holds except to live it.

Tiny Blessings

Gary and I went to the wildlife refuge yesterday and were a bit disappointed by the lack of wildlife out and about. The water levels are down. The weather has been stormy. The sky was overcast. Not the best day. However…

When we toured the garden next to the visitors’ center we were blessed by the antics of a couple of hummingbirds. Sometimes the tiniest creatures provide the biggest enjoyment.

Fall

It’s always a blessing to welcome my mom’s favorite season. She loved the colors, the flowers, the cool-but-not-cold weather and the return of some favorite events…like her September 30^th birthday. The first time I wear a sweater always reminds me of her and brings back lovely memories.

It’s often difficult to tell one season from another in Oklahoma, but this week has delivered some cooler temperatures and today we received an inch of rain. I washed one of our blankets and will soon wash some sweatshirts in anticipation of more permanent changes. Of course, we might be wearing shorts again next month, so nothing gets packed too far away.

There are pumpkins, gourds and Indian corn bundles for sale at the local markets --- a sure sign that I need to make an attempt to decorate my front porch. It’s usually not impressive, but with a chrysanthemum and a few fall veggies I usually manage to add a little color. Perhaps I’ll do that this coming weekend.

Fall means the return migration of the Monarchs and I saw my first one this week. Soon the geese will be honking overhead.

Some of the events and festivals and celebrations of Fall 2020 will be modified, postponed, or cancelled. There may be more changes necessary this season than last, simply because the weather will force us inside more often and in closer proximity to each other. Still…I’m happy and hopeful that fall will be a blessing.

New Days, New Ways

My current medical evaluation required that I have an MRI yesterday. In a family known to have faulty spines, and given my own history of accidents and surgeries, the procedure is equivalent to other people having their teeth or eyes examined periodically for the inevitable changes that come with age.

I’ve had at least six of these procedures in the past. Most were done at the same facility and some of the staff has even remained the same. However, yesterday was further evidence of how much our world has changed.

In the past I would have encountered a waiting room of at least a few people -- some filling out paperwork, others waiting for patients. Now…one patient at a time and alone. I automatically stopped at the window to have my temperature taken, having previously done so at every other medical facility I’ve visited. I wore my mask until I was situated in the machine. The staff kept theirs on. When the test was completed, I went to my truck and wiped my hands, purse, and cane.

Next week I’ll go to my doctor’s office to review the results with him. I’ll wear my mask.  I’ll have my temperature taken in the lobby. I’ll get on the elevator alone. I’ll stay six feet from the two or three other patients who will be in the waiting room. I’ll talk to my masked doctor. I’ll follow my routine in my truck and at home.

These days I don’t think twice about the need for a mask or the procedures required by medical facilities. However, I do find it interesting to think that when I was a teenager Dr. Moose made a house call to treat me for pneumonia. New ways indeed…

Outside - Where Life Feels Normal

        

We’ve discussed “normal” and the “new normal” before. There are still almost daily mentions on the news and FB about “getting back to normal”, “living a normal life again”, etc. I’m weary of even bothering to point out the fallacy of that statement. Regardless of what year or circumstance or challenge we discuss, we will never live our lives backwards. We never have. There is only forward…and forward always means change. Most of the changes are small and often subtle, but perhaps one day we’re drinking our morning coffee and looking at photos of the grandchildren or remembering our last work day or the last time we walked to the mailbox without a cane…and suddenly we realize that “normal” may be an expectation, but it is seldom a permanent condition or routine.

                Yesterday I enjoyed some time on the patio, and I spent time thinking about the many years I’ve spent outside with nature. Nature has provided consistency, comfort, peace, joy, and even entertainment for me. I was born to be outside with nature…with animals and plants and the sun and wind. Outside in nature is where I’ve always gone to escape. Outside is where life feels normal.

Midnight Mayhem

This actually took place at 3am, but it doesn't matter. Also doesn't matter that I will need to pick up some pots and refill one of my bird feeders. I've missed the raccoons from our place in the country. I was thrilled to see these. 

White Pants

Labor Day is on the horizon. Have you packed away your white pants and other summer clothing?

                One of our local newscasters has already mentioned that tried and true wardrobe mandate. And I thought about it as I stood in line at Walmart yesterday. A woman in front of us was wearing white pants, and so was the woman in the next line. I stood there trying to remember the last time I wore white pants. The answer was “never”.

                White was not one of my mother’s favorite colors for anything except sheets or kitchen towels. Nothing white ever stayed that way, especially if it was worn by a child. My father, and later my brothers, each had at least one white shirt for any formal occasion that might arise, but their usual church attire was a pale blue or yellow shirt. The same guidelines applied to my mother’s clothing and my own. Pale pastels were the closest we got to white.

                I do recall buying a few white blouses after I became a working adult. I regretted each purchase. I guess I’ve just never been one of those women who could avoid food or animals or children, and all resulted in stains!

                I did a quick Google search this morning to determine why people in the past were urged to pack away their whites in September. It seemed to be something that well-to-do people just typically did at the end of the summer vacation months. I know from previous research that some of the wealthier families from our area routinely spent the entire summer in cooler regions such as the mountains of Colorado or the beaches of either coast. White clothes were a symbol of leisure and were considered best for warding off the hot rays of the sun. Labor Day seemed like the perfect reminder that it was time to get ready for a new season of work and prepare for changes in the weather. I assume that as the white pants were packed away the brown and black sweaters came out of storage.

                I found this handy tip in a September 1916 issue of an OK newspaper: “When you put your white summer clothes away for the winter, put an extra amount of bluing in the last water. In the spring, wash again and they will be beautifully white.” In 1935 there was a similar piece of advice in a household hint column. Guess I don’t have to worry about that. My summer and fall and winter clothes all share the same closet. Of course, in Oklahoma I might need all of them next week!